


Damsel in Distress (DISCONTINUED)

by BitterCider



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-28 05:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13264521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BitterCider/pseuds/BitterCider
Summary: Prince Matthew Holt, heir to Kingdom Eltion, was nineteen years old. in three months, he'd become the new king to about 72,000 citizens. Of course, he'd have to be at his constant best, always regal, and always radiating power. Yet he was never too regal or powerful to be grounded.Yes, taking the blame for ripping a 50,000 dollar portrait led Prince Matthew to be stuck in his bedroom with the head guard making sure he couldn't leave. So when that's the only company you have, of course you'd conversate with one of the most refined people in the royal staff. That guard's name was Takashi Shirogane.(This is gonna really bother me... Kingdom Eltion is pronounced Ell-Tee-On not like "lotion" or something)





	Damsel in Distress (DISCONTINUED)

Prince Matthew Holt, heir to Kingdom Eltion, was 19 years old. In approximately three months, he’d become the new king to about 20,000 people. Yet, there he sat. In a large hallway mirror making faces like a 3-year-old. 

 

On the rare days when the castle would be nearly empty and the sun came from behind the clouds, Matthew used his free time to savor his youth before his inevitable coronation. He tried not to groan; his head hurt every time he thought about his future. Matthew scrunched up his nose one last time before sliding away from the mirror.

 

The young prince contemplated on what to do with all the time he had. Since there usually wasn’t much of it, it felt unnatural to simply laze around doing  _ nothing.  _ The thought was pitiful—he didn’t even know how to relax after managing so much stress. Or, at least, trying to manage.

 

Matthew, after idling around in the same spot for five minutes, finally decided to walk around until something eventually happened. He secretly wished something bad would occur so he could test his problem-solving abilities needed in order to become king. His head throbbed again.

 

Walking through the hall, Matthew took in the scenery of the place he had lived in for years. Different flags and portraits of immense worth hung from lengthy walls that reflected against polished marble floors. Every now and then he’d hear the noise of hurried voices and the wheels of food carts screeching on tiles.

 

Another thing he loved was silence. While he didn’t mind a noisy celebration of sorts, Matt knew silence was particularly hard to find, even though it might not seem so at first glance.

 

He stopped pacing in front of a large window. From there you could see the outline of the town, horses with riders yelling to the sky in fits of happiness. The flag of his kingdom, flying on a large pole in the center of the town.

 

Matthew couldn’t help it; he broke out in a huge grin. The serenity of the entire castle—it calmed him. The knot in his chest somehow began to loosen as he watched the bustling of every citizen. Their well-being would be his responsibility in just a few months. And being able to see that all was well, made his headache temporarily go away….

 

Until he heard a loud  _ crash  _ from across the hall. 

 

The noise sounded like an entire wall had been demolished in one swing of a giant’s fist. From where Matthew was standing, the ground shook; so roughly he lost balance and almost went tumbling to the ground. It lasted almost twenty full seconds, and the ground finally stopped moving. Matt heard a shriek—one that was so loud he could hear it around the corner and at the end of the long castle hallway. Another one, this time a much deeper voice, screamed, the voice dripping with pure horror.

 

“LANCE, WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

 

Matt knew those voices.

 

The sound of the voice mirrored his own face; completely and utterly terrified. Without thinking, he sprinted in the direction of the sound.

 

When he rounded the corner, Matthew couldn’t help but notice the lack of guards in the main hallways. 

 

‘Maybe all this quiet really  _ wasn’t _ okay,’ He thought to himself.

 

As he got closer to the loud, incoherent bickering, he couldn’t help but think of all the horrible outcomes that could’ve occured in that room.

 

Matthew reached the tall doors of the main dining hall and stopped. The shouting was even louder now, and he could hear some of the words coming through the thick mahogany doors.

 

He slowly pushed it open with trembling hands.

 

In all of his 19 years of preparing to be king, nothing could ready him for what he saw behind those doors. Rather, what happened after he saw.

 

It was surreal; a 30 foot pillar had been completely decimated. Three teenagers—including the  _ princess _ —stood screaming at each other while a large blue bird flew in circles above their heads. The second Matt walked in, everyone froze. The sound of the door closing rang loud through the silent hall.

 

“Wh—” Matthew couldn’t speak. He stared at the wreckage with wide eyes. Then back to the teenagers. There stood his sister, along with a boy with a bandana wrapped around his head, and another boy who looked about ready to collapse.

 

“M-Matt…,” his sister, Katie, said cautiously. “I… am so… sorry.”

 

Matthew noticed the two boys weren’t staring at the pillar—or at least what was left of it. They were staring at a certain portrait hanging from the back wall of the dining hall. The most valuable thing—not including the royal family—in the entire kingdom. A large painting of the first king of Eltion worth $50,000 dollars, and even more in historical value. The painting that hung in that very spot for over 200 years….

 

Had a huge gash across the canvas.

 

Matthew gasped out loud. His knees felt as if they were going to buckle from underneath him and leave him a trembling mess on the carpet.

 

“Katie…,” was all he could manage to say. Matt cupped his hands over his mouth, staring wordlessly in awe at the shredded painting.

 

Like a light switch had been flipped, the shouting continued, this time with whining voices. Katie and the first boy were frantically trying to explain what the hell had happened, while the last boy was trying to get the large blue bird down from a windowsill, all while apologising profusely.

 

“...bird up to the sill, but it wouldn’t fly! So Lance tried to climb the ledges on the pillar and he was almost there but I guess he was too heavy, and it fell over and, and—!”

 

“Wait, shut up! Do you hear that!?” the boy with the bandana suddenly shouted.

 

Matthew was quiet. The only thing he could hear was rubble falling from the window, and the soft flap of the bird’s wings as it drifted to the outstretched arm of the boy his sister was screaming at only moments ago.

 

Then footsteps. Footsteps that gradually became louder, until they were thundering, booming footsteps that rang through the compact walls of the castle. 

 

“Oh… shit.” The boy carrying the bird muttered, roughly.

 

Oh shit indeed.

 

Before Matthew could fully process the situation, about fifty knights and guards in full armor rammed open the door, yelling incoherent war cries and slurs, a little too dramatically. But considering what had just transpired, it might’ve been underwhelming. 

 

The crowd began to pour into the room, but immediately halted—finally noticing the pillar, and then, the painting. A single low gasp sounded clearly, and a loud murmur began to arise from the crowd. The teens were still in awe, and absolutely petrified.

 

The chaos only jumbled Matthew’s thought process for a minute. He stuttered silently, and was about to speak until a single voice erupted at the back of the noisy group.

 

“Settle down, please! What in the world is this commotion about!?” they boomed.

 

The crowd was immediatey silent. 

 

It was the king.

 

His father.

 

_ ‘The portrait.’ _ he thought.

 

Oh no.

 

Samuel Holt, the King of Eltion, stepped through the crowd with his back straight and his hands behind his back. The knights made way, pushing each other to form a path for their king. Most of them immediatley bowed to him. The king smiled, slightly reluctant to accept the traditional honor.

 

Then he looked up.

 

King Samuel paled at the sight of the pillar. Then, like everyone else who walked into the dining hall, his eyes traveled to the painting.

 

Matt flinched as the king’s mouth slowly parted. His face was completley void of any emotion as he whispered;

 

“Who is responsible for this?”

 

It was sickeningly sweet. There was a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, but Matthew, and everyone else in the room knew it was full of malice.

 

Yet his voice had been so soft, if someone had slightly shifted, you would’ve missed it alltogether.

 

Everyone was silent.

 

The king turned, slowly, to look at everyone. Then his eyebrows knotted in a mix of emotions—mostly anger or annoyance.

 

“I believe I asked a question.” He said, sternly. “Surely, someone in this room must have ripped the painting. So who did it?”

 

Matt hesitated. He knew the punishment for breaking such expensive items was to pay the cost within a certain time frame or be jailed. If Katie or one of the boys took the blame, there’s no doubt both boys would be jailed, and who knows what could happen to the princess. But maybe….

 

_ ‘If I take the blame, I will not be punished as severely as them.’ _

 

Even if he was unsure of what exactly happened to tip over the pillar and rip the painting, this he was definitley sure of. He is heir apparent—and only an incredible violation of the law could strip hm of that title.

 

And that was the only thing he had to lose.

 

So taking the blame for this destruction wouldn’t hurt him as much as it would hurt them.

 

Matthew probably would’ve kept analyzing the situation if he didn’t see Katie start to stutter.

 

“I did it.” He blurted.

 

As soon as he did, every head in the room turned to him in some form of shock. The teenager trio had their mouths wide in unison.

 

The king’s jaw ticked.

 

Out of everyone in the room, King Samuel’s face was more or less blank. Though his eyes flickered with many different emotions. One was expectance.

 

You see, Matthew had atoned for the little pranks that Katie had done for all his life, but never had he done so in a situation this grave. But he knows it’s given him a reputation that he doesn’t deserve at all. Even when the king initially asked who had done it, some of the eyes in the room went straight to him. Matthew admitting it was still a shock, though.

 

“Why… did you wait so long to confess?” The king said, contorting his face to show obvious confusion, but every now and then through the silence, his nose would twitch.

 

“I… was afraid. I’m sorry,” Matt said, bowing his head and closing his eyes.

 

The silence continued.

 

“You’re sorry?” King Sam asked, dumbfounded. Matthew looked up with somewhat pleading eyes.

 

_ ‘Please don’t kill me for this.’  _ repeated in his mind. Matt told himself to  _ ‘shut up.’ _

 

“Matthew Holt. Do you realize what you have done? This painting…,” He guestured to the canvas. “Is ‘sorry’ all you have to say for yourself?”

 

King Samuel looked away from the prince and turned to the teenagers.

 

“Were any of you involved in this?”

 

Before they could ask, Matthew yelped.

 

“No!” The king’s head snapped back to Matt. Matthew looked back down to the carpet. “It was… just me. They just heard the pillar fall and ran into the hall. They had nothing to do with this.”

 

“W...Wait…,” Katie spoke up.

 

Matthew turned to smile at her, then shook his head. 

 

“Katie, it’s not your fault.” he said, solemnly. Katie looked like she could burst into tears, along with the boy in the bandana, whose knees were shaking feverishly. The boy holding the bird looked as if he was going to throw up.

 

“Matthew.”

 

The king’s voice brought him back to his senses.

 

“This isn’t the first time you’ve completley destroyed something. The litte pranks you’ve done… I’d never thought they’d come to  _ this _ . I am dissapointed in you.”

 

Even though he hadn’t done it, the words still peirced his heart.

 

“I thought you were mature enough to know when to stop. Clearly, I was wrong. I should be giving you scullery work, or see that you pay the entire fine.”

 

Matthew cringed.

 

“But.”

 

_ ‘But…?’ _

 

“Your coronation is only in three months. There is simply not enough time to punish you thoroughly. So, I’ve decided.”

 

Matt felt as if a huge weight came onto his shoulders, but he couldn’t help but be terrified as to what penealty he would recieve instead.

 

“You will be confined to your sleeping chambers for an entire month. You will only be allowed to leave for coronation duties if necesarry, or any other royal issues that you are needed to participate in. Food will be dilivered to that room, and you will  _ not  _ be provided with any luxuries you may directly ask for. That is your punishment.”

 

Matt didn’t move. He couldn’t speak. He didn’t know how to react. But the one thing that ran clear through his head was:

 

_ ‘Are you serious?’ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow my Instagram where I'll post update schedules and stuffs (to be honest, they'll probably be irregular and late but hey)  
> @bitter_cider 
> 
> Open to suggestions because lord knows I need them.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave suggestions writing styles and tips, I appreciate it :)


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